


A Lesson in Obedience

by idreamofdraco



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark, Dark Draco Malfoy, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Drama, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Imprisonment, One Shot, Prisoner of War, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unforgivable Curses (Harry Potter), Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8199002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idreamofdraco/pseuds/idreamofdraco
Summary: If Draco hadn’t known any better, he would have been impressed by her self-control, but control was exactly what Granger lacked at the moment. Every movement of her body, every blink, every breath could be attributed to Draco and his wand. She was, quite literally, under his spell.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to HobbitPenguin for beta-ing! Written for DramioneLove Mini Fest 2016. Tied winner for the Fan's Choice Best Dark Fic award. The prompt I used was "Draco Imperiuses Hermione, nighttime, alone; Squicks - Fluff, Happy ending."

Granger sat alone on an ottoman in front of the wide, bay window, awash in the pale glow of moonlight. Darkness sheltered the rest of Draco’s room, including the luxurious four-poster bed that dominated the left wall. There would be plenty of time to think about the bed later, though. At the moment, Draco only had eyes for his guest.

She sat with a straight back, her hands demurely folded in her lap and her face expressionless. If Draco hadn’t known any better, he would have been impressed by her self-control, but control was exactly what Granger lacked at the moment. Every movement of her body, every blink, every breath could be attributed to Draco and his wand. She was, quite literally, under his spell.

Her hair, which had been tamed from a bushy mass into sleek ringlets around her face, had a dusty hue thanks to the waxy light, giving her the appearance of an uncannily life-like statue. But she was of no use to him motionless. Her body was best employed when responding to his commands.

Sinking into the armchair behind the ottoman, Draco gave his first command of the night.

“Stand.”

For the first time since he’d left her early that morning, Granger’s knees unbent and she rose, turning to face Draco without having to be told, as though the preference had been laced in his order.

He admired her for a few seconds, appreciating her silence as well as her neutral expression. Once, she had raised a hand to Draco and struck him; she had also argued with him in their school days. Now, she raised a hand when Draco wanted her hand to rise. She spoke only when commanded to and only the words he wanted to hear.

“Disrobe.”

The simple, slate-colored robe—satin because her Mudblood skin wasn’t good enough for silk, but Draco liked the way the slinky material clung to her generous curves—fell to the ground, puddling at her feet like liquid steel. Underneath the robe her skin was bare. The light from the moon filtering in through the window made her pale skin glow, giving her a ghostly air. But she wasn’t dead yet. Not while she was still useful to him.

Draco’s eyes leisurely scanned her body, stopping only briefly at the triangle of hair between her legs and then further up at her breasts, where her nipples stood at attention, begging to be touched.

With a smirk, he stretched his legs out in front of him and settled even further into the chair to get comfortable. “You know what I like you to do with your hands,” he said, unbuttoning his robes in anticipation of the show to come.

He left his wand on the arm of the chair, and he knew that if she could, her eyes would have focused on the instrument as she tried to develop a plan to take it from him. Instead, if his memory from Alastor Moody’s Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson in fourth year served him well, she was currently in a state of blissful obedience and unable to formulate plans that went against his wishes.

“Mmmm,” Draco hummed as Granger fondled her own breasts. “Lower now.”

One of her hands complied with his command, gliding down her stomach, over her belly button, and through the brown curls that covered her sex while the other continued to massage her chest. The sight of her finger dipping into her folds made Draco’s hips roll, and unable to wait a moment longer, he buried a hand in his shorts to assist his erection into standing at attention.

He beckoned her closer. “Come here.”

One shapely leg rose to obey, but the rest of her body resisted his order, causing her to trip over her feet and fall to her knees. Her breathing increased as she fought Draco’s spell, but he didn’t worry.

He casually lifted his wand but paused when her head rose, her muscles trembling from the strain. An expression of pure rage filled her face, an expression Draco had not seen since Granger had been captured and delivered to him weeks ago.

“Harry—will—find—”

“Oh, that’s enough of that,” Draco snarled. _“Imperio.”_

The tension drained out of her body, and she slumped, arse pleasantly lifted while her head rested against the floor. Her position appealed to Draco in a number of ways, but he couldn’t explore those ways tonight. He only had a few short hours at night with which he could exercise her and get the requisite hours of sleep necessary to function at full capacity the next day. He needed to be at peak performance in order to fulfill the Dark Lord’s commands to his master’s satisfaction. Another night, when he had more time, he would make sure to introduce himself to her plump arse.

She needed to learn a lesson in obedience, so he repeated his last command, determined to have her his way, not hers.

This time, her legs did as they were told, and she picked herself up and came to stand between Draco’s sprawled legs, her naked body so close he could feel the heat of her.

He Vanished his robes and his shorts and then yanked her down onto his lap. His grip on her hips would leave bruising hand prints on her skin by the morning, ruining her milky complexion.

But based on her blank expression, she wasn’t worried about the pain, so neither was he. She simply aimed to please.

“Potter won’t be coming to save you,” Draco said, disgusted by the name, never mind the idea of Harry Potter playing the hero. He ran his hands along Granger’s unresponsive body. “You’re utterly alone.”


End file.
